Dark Intentions Universe
by mkeeg91
Summary: All empires have small beginnings. This is the tale of one such empire. More descriptive summary inside. Dark!Smart!Powerful!God-like!Super!Harry/multi with Hermione as his number 1
1. Summary

Summary:

This is the Solar Empire of Earth and the man behind it all. A story of love, hate, war, and victory. A story of betrayal, death, and destruction. A story of the life of one Harry James Potter. Dark!Smart!Powerful!Harry/multi.

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><p>AN:<p>

This story will probably be in different views for each chapter. I'll try to remember to state at the beginning whose it will be.

I'm terrible at writing the excess information of stories, so this will be set up like a bunch of oneshots that all short stories of the main story. Each chapter (unless mentioned otherwise) will be different situations that occurred through the rise of the Solar Empire of Earth.

On the other hand, it will start out in similar format the Canon, but will quickly deviate as you will see.

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><p>Pairings:<p>

This story is a Harry/multi fic with Harry/Hermione being the main pairing.

Expect: Harry/Hermione, Susan, Daphne, Astoria, Fleur, Gabrielle, Hannah, Ginny, Tracy, Lily (yes, his mom), any sisters he may have, any female cousins that may become known, Emma Granger (Hermione's mom), the 3 Chasers, Penny Clearwater, etc.

Some will be lovers and others slaves.

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><p>If I think of anything else, it will be mentioned as an AN in the story.<p>

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><p>NOTICE: All characters, locations, spells, creatures, and background story belong to J. K. Rowling and WB. I am a guy, so I'm definitely not J.K.R.<p>

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><p>Also, for all of my loyal readers from my last account, I've reposted the Prologue and Chapter 1 here along with the new Chapter 1.5 and beyond. Thanks for understanding and still reading!<p>

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><p>Now on with the show! Please review throughout! No flames please and thank you in advance!<p> 


	2. Prologue

10,000 years ago saw the beginnings of an Empire rivaled by no other.

Like all others, it began as an idea.

An idea formed by a man with a purpose and an idol.

A purpose either for 'the greater good' of all or for himself and an idol of history or of fantasy.

This is the story of the man behind this empire. This is the story of Lord Revan II

Once known, as Harry James Potter….

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><p>(Harry POV)<p>

July 31, 11997

'Greetings. I am Emperor Revan II of the Solar Empire of Earth. You may be wondering how this all began. How I got the idea to start this reign over the people of Earth, the Mars Colony, the Moon Colony, Delta Sol, Terra Major, and Terra Minor.

It all began as an idea. The idea of a little boy with little to look forward to in life. A life without love, without friendship, without a family worth mentioning, and without hope. Sounds like a life full of sunshine and roses and yet people still to this day wonder why I turned out the way I did….' With a shake of my head in exasperation I look out the window of my space suite, looking among the stars lightyears away. Turning to the right, I can just barely see the shipyard/ naval station Delta Sol in orbit around Mars. I can make out at least two Orbital Class Strike Cruisers and an Galactic Class Carrier orbiting around the station either under repair or in for refueling.

'Its truly amazing how much my Empire has grown and evolved over the last 10000 years. Let me tell you a little secret. The origins of my Empire actually came from an old movie series that started back in 1977. That's right, Star Wars. What six year old would not be entertained by the idea of spaceships and leaving home to rescue a beautiful princess and then saving the universe from the great evil that was the Empire. At the time, I had no intentions of going dark. I just wanted to leave my poor excuse of a house with my poor excuse of a family, but I'll talk about them later. Just thinking about them angers me! May their souls burn in the fires of Hades and Hell forever. Who knows. Maybe one day I'll see them there once my time of this plain ends, if it ever does. Hopefully my fail-safes prevent that meeting from ever occurring, but you never know.'

'I'm sure most of you are wondering how this all came to be. How I became the Emperor of multiple planets and billions of life forms. I'm afraid it would take to long to tell you everything, so my story will be small stories of different influential events throughout the last 10000 years. One thing though that has remained constant the whole time has been my wife, lover, and only equal; Hermione Jane Potter, nee Granger. She has guided me when I needed help, provided a shoulder to lean on or even cry on when the going got tough, and most importantly, kept me as human as possible. Not an easy feat when my rule has become so spread out. She truly is an amazing person and I wouldn't be half the person I am now without her. I'm sure she will have some interesting stories to tell as well.'

'Another precious person in my life only rivaled by Hermione is my mother-wife. Thats right, my mom Lily Rose Potter nee Evans is my mother and one of my wives, but that is a story for another time. She started out as my savior from a loveless home. That is something I will never forget. Especially the fireworks that resulted from it. I truly love her.'

'Just a warning though. I'll be telling the story as I remember facts, not necessarily in order by date, so I'll include dates of when the event occurred. The month and year at least.'

My thoughts are interrupted by a movement right outside my line of sight. Passing past my window is a massive shape I finally notice is one of our new Dragoon Class Dreadnaughts. An impressive warship almost a mile long. Disruptor turrets and photon turrets line the hull providing an impressive show of firepower that brings fear to my enemies. Truly awe inspiring.

'Anyways. I was born on July 31, 1980 when Harry James Potter was born at 9:08 p.m. to Lily and James Potter. I could tell you all about my childhood before that fateful night October 31, 1981, but its really not important for my story.

'My story begins October 31, 1981 in Little Whinging, Surrey at Number 4 Privet Drive; the house that would become my personal Hell on Earth for the next eight years….'


	3. Chapter One

Like always, this doesn't belong to me and never will. It is all J.K.R.'s ideas and characters. Just a warning. The beginning with be very similar to the actually first book. In fact, much of the first couple of chapters will be used, just changed to fit how I want the story to go. Hope you like my changes for Chapter 1, The Boy Who Lived.

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><p>(November 1, 1981)<p>

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."

They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.

He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.

The Dursley's had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursley's had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursley's shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursley's knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.

For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, _looking _at the sign; cats couldn't read maps _or _signs.

Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.

Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.

Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He _didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —"

" — yes, their son, Harry —"

Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid.

Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew _was _called Harry.

He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if _he'd _had a sister like that…

but all the same, those people in cloaks…

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!

Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was.

He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning.

It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.

Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!").

Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"_And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" _

"_Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." _

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good.

He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er — Petunia,

dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"_So?_" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… _her _crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursley's got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters _were _involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect _them_…

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt.

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

Inwardly annoyed with her presence, he turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly," he replied. 'Besides, I've worked with you for more years than I wish. You'd think I'd recognize your magical signature by now you stupid bitch!' McGonagall was by far his most outspoken staff member and he was less than pleased. 'If she wasn't so good at her job and so loyal to him, he would have gotten rid of her years ago. Permanently.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." 'One more party and I would have started throwing hexes. I mean bloody hell! Its only Voldemort. If I wanted to, I could have killed him with my hand behind my back whenever I wanted to,' he thought imperiously. His thoughts interrupted by Professor McGonagall sniffing angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news."

She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently, silently agreeing about Diggle. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has _gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore.

"We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A _what_?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." 'And laced with calming charms, compulsion charms aimed to be loyal to me, and indifference charms to believe anything I say. Luckily, I'm immune to them,' he thought hoping she would say yes before she really started digging into the subject.

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has _gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_." 'Its not even a good name. _Flight form death?_ Really? He runs away from death and people are scared of him and that name? Idiots! The lot of them, which makes them so easy to control.'

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice, though he did internally sniffing disdainfully. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name." "I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." 'Ha ha! Yeah right! His so called magic pales in comparison to my powers!'

"Only because you're too — well —_noble _to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." 'Stupid bitch! She hasn't got a clue… and that's just the way I want it.'

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the _rumors _that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. 'Damn! Why do we have to talk about this?'

"What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.

"The rumor is that Lily and James Potter." She paused to collect her words. Trembling, she continued. "The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — _dead_."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.

'Everything is going according to plan. The Potter's are dead, Remus is out of the county, the rat will get his soon enough, and hopefully I can frame the betrayal of the Potter's on Sirius the supposed secret keeper and get him locked up. Then little Harry is all mine to control. His wealth, property, and titles will all be mine. And I'll have the perfect puppet. The famous Harry Potter standing beside the famous Albus Dumbledore. We will be unstoppable in my quest for ultimate power over this planets of fools!'

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded.

"It's — it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." 'But I need to find out. If the boy has special powers, I'll need to find them out the gain them myself. I knew the boy was powerful, which was why I recommended those parental blocks be put on him to James. That way once he died, they would never be removed and I would have a weak puppet to mold.'

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It made sense to Dumbledore, though, and he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why _you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean – you _can't _mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" 'Besides, I need him isolated and alone and these people will be key for this. They won't love him, I've made sure of that with the little compulsion I put on the letter not that they need it based off their past. Yes, everything is going to plan. All for the greater good…. For me of course. Only I, the most powerful wizard since Merlin and the Founders really matter.'

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid is bringing him," replied Dumbledore.

"You think it —_wise _— to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. 'Hah! Yeah right! I don't trust him at all! Granted I don't trust anyone, but thats beside the point.'

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild _— long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" 'Bumbling fool! You don't carry a precious cargo like my weapon on a flying bike!'

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?" 'Black huh? You are all mine Sirius. Just after I finish up here I'm going to ruin you. All for the greater good.'

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. 'Hah! What a lie!'

Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursley's house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. Instead, unknown to his two companions, his eyes shown of great personal victory. 'Soon, I will have a new weapon. It is only a matter of time.'

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." 'Yeah right!'

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. 'I'll see you in a matter of years, my weapon. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"


	4. Chapter One and a Half

**Chapter 1.5: Side Trip to Godric's Hallow**

**This is a note to my followers from my last account: Sorry its been so long since posting. I have been busy… not writing. At all. Its true. I just couldn't get myself into the spirit of writing. **

**Also during this time, I realized I cannot write smut to save my life, so it will probably be like James Bond smut scenes (all the good stuff happens off screen).**

**Like always, this doesn't belong to me and never will. It is all J.K.R.'s ideas and characters. Just a warning. The beginning with be very similar to the actually first book. In fact, much of the first couple of chapters will be used, just changed to fit how I want the story to go. Hope you like my changes. They present a completely different series of events as it goes on. The changes really begin now, in Godric's Hallow. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>(October 31, 1981 and the week leading up to it)<p>

(Lily PoV sort of)

Everyone knows what happened in Godric's Hallows that fateful night, right? Wrong! Even the 'all powerful and all knowing' Dumbledore had no idea his plan for greater fame and power died that fateful day. All because of one little fact that he didn't plan on. Lily Potter lived!

Lily Potter had been noted to be the greatest witch of her age, so it would have been certain she had backup plans in case things didn't work out. What if Voldemort found them? What if Dumbledore and Peter couldn't be trusted? Who told Voldemort of the Prophecy that Dumbledore told them about and she was sure was a fake? These questions and more were running through Lily's head weeks before that fateful night, so she planned. She worked with the same intensity that she put behind her schoolwork. The same intensity she put behind her day job as a Charm's Mistress. The same intensity she put behind her secret job that not even James knew about; her work as an Unspeakable working directly for the Head of the Department in a secret cell of the department that only three other people even knew existed. The cell charged with immortality research and learning ways to survive against the unsurvivable.

There were only three members of this department: Raven the Darks Arts Mistress, Animus the Transfiguration Master, and Empress the Charms Mistress. Raven was the head of their group since she had been working with the Dark Arts and their counters since before Animus and Empress had even been born. So far they only had counters for some of the darker curses that counters had not yet been created for. Only one week before Halloween though, the team made a startling break through; a counter for the dreaded Avada Kedavra curse! It wasn't a spell. So far they couldn't created a spell strong enough to fight it, but they were able to create a rune. The only problem was it took so much energy to create and then activate, that it took three or four days before the user to make it a second time. Even worse was the rune only worked for three hits. After that, it would have to be remade. Another, lesser issue was it involved blood magic; it involved carving the rune into the person's upper arms, outer thighs, and then back to protect them.

Lily knew that madman was coming for her family, so she decided to use the rune on her family to protect them. She would add extra protections to Harry just to be sure though beforehand not knowing if the runes would have extra side affects on a fifteen-month-old baby. That night, she cast familial runes on Harry that were based off of her love. It was blood magic as well, but she wasn't too concerned for getting into trouble over them. She then began creating the rune on her son. The process could be fairly painful, so she put him to sleep first. After casting the runes, Lily fell straight asleep.

* * *

><p>(James PoV sort of)<p>

James knew his wife was up to something. He may be lazy at times and prefer to joke around, but he was no slouch. He wouldn't have been Head Boy if his grades were bad. James loved his wife and was pretty sure she loved him as well, so he assumed she would let him know what was up. On more than one occasion he brought lunch to her office to not find her there and her boss telling him that she was out for the day. He hoped she was okay and wasn't doing anything too dangerous.

A week before Halloween, he noticed Lily cutting runes into their son and was about to stop her when he noticed she was in a trance, so he would have been unable to stop her unless he risked hurting his son. When she finished, she fell asleep immediately, so James walked into the room to look at his son. The cuts had been healed, but the runes were unlike any he had every seen in class or at work with the Aurors. They were on little Harry's upper arms, outer thighs, and back. They weren't even bleeding anymore, so she must have healed them before falling asleep. James dressed his son and put him in his crib before picking up Lily and laying her in their bed.

He decided to wait and see if she would tell him about the runes on her own or if he would have to approach her himself.

* * *

><p>(Lily PoV sort of)<p>

Lily woke up and immediately realized something was wrong; she was in her bed when she distinctly remembered falling asleep on the floor in Harry's room. 'James!' she thought. 'Bloody hell! He probably knows!' She felt something tighten around her waste and saw an arm. Turning around, she looked into the very open eyes of her husband.

"Uhh. I can explain," Lily said to her husband. He just nodded to her.

"Okay. I haven't been one hundred percent truthful with you for good reason. For one, I'm under Oath to not tell anyone what I do for a living besides my normal work. I work for the ministry in a secret department.

"The DoM?" asked James. Lily could only nod her head.

"We work on ways to help as a ex-friend of mine would say 'put a stopper on death'," said Lily.

After explaining the whole process of the rune, James was finally able to relax knowing that Lily was doing something to help protect Harry and them.

"So what's next, Lily? Asked James.

"Next, I wait a few days then do the runes on myself. Then wait a few more days and do it on you next."

"Sounds good, and thanks for looking out after us, Lils. I know you don't trust Dumbledore for some reason so thanks also for agreeing to stay here," said James with a smile and a small kiss on her cheek.

Lily just smiled, "I trust you James, so I'm willing to stay here even though I still believe the _Keep_ would have been safer."

"I agree, Lils, but Dumbledore felt using his cottage here would have been safer. Plus its under Fidelis with Wormy as secret keeper."

"Another thing I don't trust, James! Why Wormtail? He would spill minutes after they catch him. At least Sirius would have held out to the death if necessary."

"I agree, but Dumbledore said Petey would be the safer bet for us and I trust him," said James with that dashing grin he reserved for only Lily.

"I hope you're right, love," replied Lily being getting out of bed to get ready for the day. Just then, Harry started crying, which caused James to laugh and shake his head before getting out of bed. "The little cub has perfect timing, doesn't he, Lils?"

Lily just smiled and rolled her eyes before walking into the shower saying, "Thanks for volunteering to dress him, James."

* * *

><p>(James PoV sort of)<p>

James just stood there for almost a minute with his jaw hanging before he quickly shook his head and walked into Harry's room.

"Hey little cub, what's with the crying? I bet you missed seeing your handsome daddy," James said, which caused Harry to stop crying and started to giggle at his daddy.

"You think I'm silly do you, you silly little bugger. Come here you!" and James started to tickle Harry causing him to giggle even more. Finally, James was able to get Harry dressed who loved to struggle when his daddy changed him, though he was a little angel when Lily changed him, much to James' chagrin, which just caused Lily to laugh at him and Harry would giggle as well. Finally going downstairs, James heard something boiling, so he walked into the kitchen with Harry resting on his hip looking around with big eyes. Harry was such an observative and smart baby, which made Lily proud and extremely happy, which in turn made James happy. James just hoped he would love quidditch.

James and Lily had been very young when Lily became pregnant with Harry. Lily had done the math, and had figured that they had conceived Harry after their last Halloween party at Hogwarts. Both he and Lily had only been seventeen when Harry was conceived. James was eighteen and Lily still seventeen when Harry was born on July 31, 1980. Lily wasn't eighteen until the following September 1st. In fact, if she had been one day younger, she would have been in the year below James. James had turned eighteen the previous March 10th. They decided that they would wait to get married till after Harry was born since Lily graduated at seven months pregnant. July 30, 1981 had been a nice dinner with family planning the wedding when her water broke that evening at eight p.m. Harry obviously was very impatient because it was only one a.m. the next morning when Harry was born very healthy with all ten fingers and ten toes July 31st. Lily and James were happily wed on August 16 with Lily's mom holding their not even three week old son in the congregation. He had been baptized the previous week and his Godparents were Sirius Black and James' cousin, Cameron Diaz. They had been dating for almost as long as James and Lily.

* * *

><p>(Lily PoV sort of)<p>

Lily heard a noise behind her, so she turned around a smiled. There was James carrying little Harry wearing a cute little sweater…. Backwards!

"JAMES!" Lily yelled, which caused Harry to giggle and James to cower in fear.

"What did I do this time?" he asked with fear in his eyes.

Lily just rolled her eyes and took Harry in her arms. She turned him around and faced him to James. "See anything wrong with this picture?" she asked trying not to laugh.

At least James had the decency to blush and mumble something about Harry fighting him to whole time. This time after Harry started to giggle again, Lily started laughing as well, which caused James to blush more before laughing with them.

'These are the times I love most when we can act like a normal family pretending there isn't a war going on out there' thought Lily. She didn't know it, but James was thinking the same thing.

* * *

><p>(James PoV sort of)<p>

The day before Halloween, Lily performed the ritual and put the runes on herself before falling asleep. This time James was present in case she had trouble drawing some of them on herself. When she finally fell asleep in exhaustion, he took her up to their room and put her in bed before going downstairs to watch over Harry who was supposed to be sitting in his highchair waiting for dinner. The mess that greeted him made him glad Lily was asleep; there was food everywhere. Plates and bowls were flying around the room and right in the middle of it was the wide-eyed toddler that made James' life heaven and hell at the same time. James' years of Marauding were coming back to bite him in the arse in the form of his fifteen month old child and he wouldn't have it any other way… that was until he was hit the face by the cake Lily had just finished baking earlier that day for the little Halloween party the family would be having the next day.

Let me tell you now. It is hard to look mad at your toddler when you're covered in chocolate cake, which of course caused the little troublemaker to just giggle at his silly daddy for wearing the cake in the first place. Without Lily, James knew it was going to be a long night tonight. The only one of the two who could ever get Harry to sleep on time was Lily.

* * *

><p>(Lily PoV sort of)<p>

The next morning, Halloween, Lily awoke to any empty bed. Casting the tempus she realized it was already 11 am. After showering and dressing for the day, she descended the stairs and entered into a war zone; tables, chairs, and couches were overturned. Random items thrown around, James hanging from the fan, books scattered…. Wait! "James! What are you doing up there?" shouted Lily. James just pouted and remained closed lipped. Then she heard it. The one sound that answered all of her questions: the quiet giggles of little Harry from behind the couch. Walking around the couch, she saw Harry hiding under it. Well, trying to hide would be a better description since only his head was under it. The rest of him was sticking out with his little pampered bottom sticking straight up in the air. Now Lily had seen it all! Her little baby had caused this mess and somehow hung James from the fan! 'How in the name of Merlin did he do that?' was her first thought.

After getting James down and cleaning up the room, Lily picked up Harry who finally stopped giggling after seeing the stern look in his mommy's eyes. He knew that look. He was in trouble. It was rare, but the few times that it had happened had imprinted themselves in the toddler's mind for all time. 'Oops!'

* * *

><p>(James PoV sort of)<p>

James later told Lily about Harry's accidental magic abilities, but she couldn't believe him. Even after seeing James hanging from the fan. Later that night, James was bouncing Harry on his leg when the wards went off throughout the house. Both of them knew what it meant, but James was the first to verbalize it. James' eyes widened. "Lily! It's him. Take Harry and run!"

* * *

><p>(Lily PoV sort of)<p>

Lily's eyes widened before she quickly kissed James for what was probably the last tie and then picked up Harry and sprinted up the stairs. Running into Harry's room, she swung the door open and moved towards his crib closing and locking the door behind her. Just as she put Harry in his crib, the door was blasted open from behind her. Lily flung herself to the side as the bedroom door slammed against the wall. Turning around to face him, she pleaded with Voldemort. "No, please, not Harry, not my son. Take me instead."

"Stand aside you silly girl," he replied

"NO! Take me instead!" Lily pleaded.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light flashed by Harry's face, seemingly to light the entire room alight.

Voldemort laughed high and cold as he turned his wand on Harry. He shouted the curse, lazily watching it speed towards the defenseless baby. He laughed again as the curse hit the child, but the mirth died in his throat as the boy absorbed the curse and sent it back at him. Voldemort had a brief glimpse at a cut shaped like a lightening bolt before his AK him hit him, and he knew no more.

* * *

><p>In a vault, a scream was not heard coming from a cup, which then melted.<p>

In a hidden room in Hogwarts, the same scream was heard, before a Diadem melted.

In a small hut, the scream was heard again, but this time the ring didn't melt. Its time on this plane existence wasn't over yet; it had yet to meet its true master.

In a home in the middle of London, the scream was heard again, along with the melting of a necklace. The wide-eyed elf who was present started to jump for joy that his favorite Master's last wish had finally been accomplished. He quickly began cleaning up the manor under the (happy for the first time in years) eyes of his Mistress.

In Malfoy Manor, a scream was heard, causing the Senior Malfoy to run into his study to see his Master's prized journal, 'since Dark Lords don't have diaries' thought Lucius, begin to melt, with the abundance of paper present then caught on fire. It took Lucius almost half an hour to put out the flames, but he was too late. His entire library had been destroyed including the book that acted as his trigger to access his hidden vault where he kept all of his less than savory items. They were now completely lost to him since they couldn't be accessed without that book. With one fell stroke, Lucius was twenty seven million galleons poorer because of his own poor planning.

A snake realized its bond with its Master broke, so it slithered off never to be seen again.

* * *

><p>(November 2, 1989)<p>

(Lily PoV sort of)

The first thing Lily felt when she woke up was pain on her lower stomach. Lifting her shirt, she saw a peculiar lightning bolt-shaped scar on her lower abdomen on the left side. Then, she remembered.

"HARRY!"

Looking around, she couldn't find him anywhere. Surrounding her was destruction as if a bomb had gone off in his room. While she felt like crying, she knew that wouldn't help her find her son, so she went downstairs, but was unable to find her husband.

Trying to keep herself from panicking, she decided she had to keep busy if she was going to find her son. Quickly finding her and James' wands, she put a charm on herself to alter her appearance before apparating out of the house to try and find out what had happened. The results of her search would shock her and send her further down the dark path she had only recently unknowingly begun to travel…

* * *

><p><strong>Timeline:<strong>

Note: I know Lily and James were supposed to be around 21 when they died, I felt they wouldn't have waited so long to get married and have Harry if they were as in love as canon says… plus I felt like having them younger in this. EXTREMELY younger I know, but don't burn me at the stake for their super young ages. I just felt for this fic it would be necessary later on for Lily to be younger.

- March 10, 1962 = James Charlus Potter born

- September 1, 1962 = Lily Rose Evans born

- September 1, 1973 = Lily and James enter Hogwarts at 11 years of age

- July 15, 1979 = Lily finally agrees to date James at age of 16

- May 23, 1980 = Lily and James become engaged at age of 17 and 18 respectively

- June 26, 1980 = Lily and James graduate ranked 1st and 3rd in their class respectively

- July 31, 1980 = Harry James Potter born. Lily is 17 and James is 18

- August 16, 1980 = Lily and James get married at age of 17 and 18 respectively

- October 14, 1981 = Dumbledore tells Lily and James to hide in his home in Godric's Hallows

- October 31, 1981 = The fateful night and the destruction of Voldemort

- October 31, 1981 = Young Harry Potter is left on his relative's front doorstep to be found the following morning by Petunia

- November 2, 1989 = Lily awakens from the sleep-like state that the rune leaves the wearer in and realizes Harry is missing. The hunt for her son begins and the beginnings of a darker Lily emerge from the destroyed home. Nothing would ever be the same again…

* * *

><p>AN: Now, your probably asking why Lily wasn't found or buried during all of those years. Well honestly I didn't think that far, so please forgive me if the only answer I have is that it was a side affect of the rune. Remember, there was one on her back that James would of had to have written, so lets just assume he made a slight error so that Lily was in a deep sleep for eight years and her body was in a different dimension during this time, not to return till right before she woke up. Hope that sounds good.<p>

The Horcruxes. I hate them really. So I had them removed one by one. The cup, Diadem, Ring, Necklace, Journal not Diary as Lucius put it, the Snake, and Harry. Harry's scar is just like Lily's a result of her runes and the AK caused that scar, not the formation of Horcrux in this story. So, if you haven't guessed it, this means BYE BYE VOLDYMOLDY! I love getting rid of him early. Especially since Dumbles still thinks he is alive and continues to act as if he were.


	5. Chapter Two

**Chapter 2: The Vanishing Glass**

**Yes, this is a repost. People said this chapter was too much like canon, which it was like I warned it would be. I added a new ended that I warn is violent. Just a heads up.**

**Like always, this doesn't belong to me and never will. It is all J.K.R.'s ideas and characters. Just a warning. The beginning with be very similar to the actually first book. In fact, much of the first couple of chapters will be used, just changed to fit how I want the story to go. Hope you like my changes. They present a completely different series of events as it goes on.**

* * *

><p>(June 17, 1988)<p>

(PoV Harry sort of)

Nearly seven years had passed since the Dursley's had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but privet drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursley's front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Seven years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different colored bobble hats - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on the roundabout at the fair, playing games with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house too.

Yet Harry potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day.

"Up, Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had being having. It had being a good one. There had being a flying motorbike in it he had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect for Dudley's birthday.'

Harry groaned.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Dudley's birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobby knees, black hair, and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together by a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his aunt was how he had got it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursley's. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon. "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large, pink face, not muck neck, small, watery blue eyes and thick, blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel. Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley meanwhile was counting his presents. "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, its here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right then, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?" Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.

Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... thirty..." "Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him."

She jerked her head in Harry's direction. Dudley's mouth fell open in horror but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday his parents took him and a friend to, adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, My Paws and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursley's often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer.)

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car ..."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone ..." Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact he wasn't really crying; it had been years since he'd really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I ... don't ... want ... him ... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms. Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, Good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursley's car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas!"

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..." But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursley's he didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barber's looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his fringe, which she left 'to hide that horrible scar'. Dudley laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and his Sellotaped glasses. Next morning, however, he had got up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly. Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old jumper of Dudley's (brown with orange bobbles). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a glove puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished. On the other hand, he'd got into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney The Dursley's had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big bins outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong it was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room. While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the ban and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorbikes."... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorbike overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorbike," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying." Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetroot with a moustache, "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!" Dudley and Piers snickered.

"I know they don't," said Harry, "It was only a dream."

"But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursley's hated more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even in a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas. It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with people. The Dursley's bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice-creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice lolly.

'It wasn't bad either,' Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head and looking remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursley's so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbockers glory wasn't big enough, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first. Harry felt, afterwards, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in here, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car, and crushed it into a dustbin, but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils. "Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard for a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up - at least he got to visit the rest of the house. The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were level with Harry's. It winked. Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, and then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry, murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying." The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it. Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?" The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo.

"Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?" As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Dudley came waddling towards them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened. One second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next; they had leapt back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out on to the floor - people throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. as the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo."

The keeper of the reptile house was in the glass. He kept saying, "Where did the glass go?" The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But, worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?" Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak.

He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy. Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursley's were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking in to the kitchen for some food. He'd lived with the Dursley's almost seven years, seven miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house. When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursley's were his only family (If only he knew the truth). Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking woman dressed in all green has waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple cloak had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day then walked away without another word.

The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look. At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

Then one day, everything that he thought he knew was turned upside down. It all started that morning when Harry burnt the breakfast. Vernon was beyond mad at him. The day only seemed to get worse with everything going wrong. First, he messed up one of Petunia's flowers when he was mowing the lawn. When cleaning the house, he knocked down a vase, which then broke. The final straw for the Dursley's was when Dudley complained Harry broke his videogame system even though it was Dudley who did it in a fit of rage after losing to a boss enemy. With Dudley pretending to cry, Petunia frustrated about her broken vase and messed up flower, Vernon was beyond pissed.

For the first time in Harry's life, he actually feared for his safety. Harry turned to run, but wasn't quick enough as Vernon's beefy hand roughly grabbed his arm and swung him into the kitchen door. He then proceeded to beat the boy. Dudley seeing what his father was doing quickly stopped pretending to cry and joined his father by grabbing Harry's arms from behind so Harry couldn't even try to block himself from Vernon's swinging arms. Harry had blood dripping from his mouth, nose, and even eyes since his glasses had been broken by the first punch, right into his eyes. Just as Harry thought he was going be killed, salvation came in the form of the ringing of the doorbell. Standing on the other side was someone who would change Harry's life forever…

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><p><strong>AN: Cliffhanger! Can you guess who is at the door? I hope so. I felt this was the best place to stop because now things are really going to start deviating from canon. <strong>

**Hope you liked this chapter and where I'm going with this. In case you didn't notice, it is only seven years after that Halloween night rather than the ten of canon. This is intentional. **

**Please review! **


	6. Chapter Two and a Half

**Chapter 2.5: The Awakening and Search**

**Like always, this doesn't belong to me and never will. It is all J.K.R.'s ideas and characters. Now that the background of the story is finished, I promise no more chapters taken straight from canon. I got a lot of hassle for that and I'm sorry to those of you who didn't like that. I didn't either, but I wanted the story to start off like canon. **

**Its been awhile, so I'll summarize what happened. Lily wakes up November 2, 1989. The attack on their home was 8 years before. She was in some other sleep dimension due to a mistake that James made when painted a rune on her. Harry has been with the Dursley's this whole time. Voldemort is dead, but Dumbledore believes him to still be alive. All horcruxes are destroyed. Lily has woken up and is now looking for her son. As the story shows from the last chapter it, takes her some time to find him. That will be what this chapter is all about up until she arrives on their doorsteps, which will start chapter 3. **

**Sorry for the long wait. I've been taking College finals and still have another week of them, but I have a little break right now, so I'm writing a little bit. Hope you enjoy my non-canon chapters from now on.**

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><p>(November 2, 1989)<p>

_(Lily PoV sort of)_

_The first thing Lily felt when she woke up was pain on her lower stomach. Lifting her shirt, she saw a peculiar lightning bolt-shaped scar on her lower abdomen on the left side. Then, she remembered. _

"_HARRY!" _

_Looking around, she couldn't find him anywhere. Surrounding her was destruction as if a bomb had gone off in his room. While she felt like crying, she knew that wouldn't help her find her son, so she went downstairs where she found the body of her husband laying on the ground. _

_Trying to keep herself from panicking, she decided she had to keep busy if she was going to find her son. Quickly finding her and James' wands, she put a charm on herself to alter her appearance before apparating out of the house to try and find out what had happened. The results of her search would shock her and send her further down the dark path she had only recently unknowingly begun to travel… _

Apparating into the Leaky Cauldron, Lily pulled her hood further over her eyes. Even though she was disguised, she still tried to cover her face. Her first stop was the Daily Profit to find out the date and look into current news. She also hoped to find out any news about what had happened after she was hit by Voldemort's curse.

Upon arrival, she was quickly shown to a side room where old articles were kept. Upon finding the date, she stood shocked for a full minute. 'How did the runes mess up? Why did it take so long to wake up again? How could I have been missing for eight years and yet my body wasn't buried? Where is Harry?' These thoughts and more were going through her head lightning fast. None of which she had answers for. 'I cannot even check the runes since they would absorb into the body after a week.' Looking for information of Harry was also much harder than she had hoped. Only articles from that first week mentioned him before they mysteriously stopped printing about him at all.

The articles called him the 'Boy-Who-Lived', but they didn't say where he was living. They implied though that he was living the life of luxury hidden away from harm. 'Who could he be living with? Sure the Longbottom's have sort of wealthy, but not the way this article implies. Same for the Bones family. He could be with Sirius and Adrian Greengrass.' Both the Black and Greengrass family were listed on the will as possible places Harry could live if both of his parents were killed. James and her had spent many hours making that list so that Harry would be well protected in case of that scenario. First would be Sirius, the Alice and Frank, then Adrian and Anastasia Greengrass, and finally Amelia Bones, who were all good family friends. On the other hand, The Dursley's, Malfoy's, and Severus were specifically listed as people not to be trusted with Harry.

She then realized she didn't know where Sirius lived. Sure, he had his own flat, but he never used it preferring to stay with them, Remus, or his girl friend Cammie's flat. Cammie was actual Cameron Diaz, James' cousin on his mom's side of the family. She had gone to a private magical school in Italy where James' mom's family was originally from.

After searching all of those locations, Lily decided to give up since she couldn't find any sign of Remus, Sirius, or Cammie. This scared her almost as much as the thought of a missing Harry. 'What if they were also dead like James?' she thought. 'No! I cannot think like that! I cannot let myself despair. I'll just go check on the Longbottom's next. Apparating to Longbottom Manor, Lily walked up to the gates out front and placed her hand on the Seal in the center. Unlocking sounds were heard from within the gate as the ancient magic protecting the home recognized her magical signature and she was admitted in. Walking up the lane, she noticed many of the plants that Frank loved to take care of were in poor shape. 'What could have caused Frank to stop doing what he loved most.' Few knew it, but Frank was massive plant lover. He could recognize just about any plant in the world and had actually considered work in Herbology before his mother shot that idea down. He ended up joining the Auror core with Alice, Sirius, and James. Amelia had been their sponsor since she was a Senior Auror at the time.

As Lily neared the front patio, she noticed a person standing in wait with her wand out. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was the Elder Lady Longbottom. Quickly walking up the steps, Lily dropped her disguise causing the older woman to drop her wand and jaw with surprise.

"Lily? But you died! James died! How are you…? How is it possible?" She looked like she would faint, so Lily helped her sit in one of the patio chairs before sitting next to the older woman.

"Its me, Augusta. I'm alive. I cannot explain it because its classified information," Lily said. "Where are Frank and Alice? What about Neville? Or Sirius, Remus, and Cammie? And please tell me you all have Harry!" Lily said really rushed.

The older woman seeing Lily starting to freak out quickly calmed down and called for a house elf to bring out tea.

"Lily, dear. I don't know where you've been, but you've missed so much. After James was killed and you supposedly were killed, Harry was proclaimed a hero for destroying the Dark Lord. He then vanished never to be heard from again though a witch or wizard will sometimes report seeing him in random places in the muggle world. Diggles I think was one of them. Our home was attacked two days after the attack on your home. Dumbledore said it was safe to come out… and…" The older lady took a sip of her tea that had arrived during her tale. "I'm sorry dear, it's just… Alice and Frank… there was nothing I could do… they… are at Saint Mungos permanent ward for prolonged exposure to cruiciatus. Neville was fine though, so he lives here with me. Remus ran away after you were killed and I haven't seen the poor boy since he left. That traitorous Sirius Black is in Azkaban like he deserves! And poor Cammie ran back to Italy after loosing the last of her family due to the treachery of her ex-fiancé! Poor dear!"

All of this was crazy to Lily so she said as such. "How was Sirius a traitor? What did he do?"

Augusta looked at Lily like she was crazy. "He betrayed you! He was your secret keeper! Then he ran off and killed poor Peter and those 13 muggles. Terrible boy!"

"What!" yelled Lily jumping up, " but Sirius wasn't our secret keeper! It was Peter! That means Peter was the traitor! Besides, Sirius cannot betray our family! He did the brother-to-brother ritual with James making them brothers even in blood! He is Harry's Godfather, another enchantment that means he cannot harm Harry! Heck, he and I are even bound as brother and sister to a lesser degree!"

Augusta looked shocked at this outburst and the information gathered from it. "Well then Sirius must be freed or at least his sentenced shortened since he still killed Peter and the muggles. I'll talk to Amelia. You just concentrate on finding Harry! I know Amelia does not have him and nor do I. Who does that leave?"

"The only people left in our will is Adrian and Anastasia Greengrass."

Augusta just nodded her head. "It could have been them. I know they would have kept it quiet if they had the Boy-Who-Lived living with them. Many darker families would not be happy with them taking care of him. You should go there immediately and I'll talk to Amelia right now."

After thanking her, Lily apparated to the outside gate of Greengrass Manor. She didn't even stop to put on her disguise again. Following the same procedure here as she did at the Longbottom house, Lily quickly ran up the drive up to the front of the Greengrass' ancient home. As she arrived at the steps, the front door slammed open and both Adrian and Anastasia ran out to greet her with shock on their faces. Seeing that it was indeed Lily, they both ran up to her and hugged her at the same time. All three shed tears at the reunion. Looking past the two, Lily saw two little girls, maybe between seven and nine years old, but no sign of Harry. Lily assumed one was Daphne who was about Harry's age, but she didn't know who the younger sibling was.

Looking Adrian in the eye, Lily said, "Adrian. Please tell me you know where Harry is. I've tried Sirius, Remus, Cammie, Augusta, and I know Amelia doesn't have him. You are the last person on our will that was supposed to get him if all of them could not take care of him."

"There was a will?" exclaimed Anastasia. "Dumbledore said you all never made one, so he decided to hide Harry off to keep him safe!"

The look in Lily's eyes could have killed both of them, but she wasn't angry with them. She was angry with a bearded old man. "DUMBLEDORE!" she yelled. This surprised both Adrian and Anastasia. They were about to voice their curiosity when Lily started shouting again.

"THAT BUMBLING OLD IDIOT! HE WAS THERE AND SIGNED AS A WITNESS WHEN JAMES AND I MADE OUR WILL! WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT HE DID TO MY SON… I'LL RIP HIS BLOODY THROAT OUT IF ONE HAIR IS HURT ON MY LITTLE BOY!"

This shocked the Greengrass' but Adrian quickly regained his composure. "Lily, I know you're pissed. I'd be as well, but it won't help you get back Harry. We cannot approach Dumbledore since it would be best to keep your rising from the dead a secret for as long as possible. I'll try to find your son. I promise."

Lily couldn't respond because she had collapsed after her outburst crying on Anastasia's shoulder. Looking closer at his old friend, Adrian realized Lily hadn't aged a day since he last saw her in 1981 only weeks before her supposed death. She still looked nineteen years old. Then he realized something. If Lily had survived, then…

"Lily! Where is James? Did he survive as well?" asked Adrian. This only caused Lily to cry even more, which cause Anastasia to glare at her husband who took a quick step back in fear from his wife's rage. After a few minutes, they were able to lead Lily into their sitting room where she promptly fell asleep on the couch in exhaustion.

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><p>Lily woke up in a well-decorated bedroom and realized she had fallen asleep. Looking around, she realized she was in her old room that she and James used whenever they spent time with the Greengrass family. This caused her to tear up again, especially upon seeing a moving photo of her and James holding a giggling baby Harry as his Godfather, Sirius tickled his little belly. Alice was next to Sirius swatting his arm while Frank stood with his arm around Alice and baby Neville on his hip. Cammie was next to Lily and Anastasia next to her holding little Daphne. Adrian had been on a business trip when the photo was taken and the other girl she had seen earlier had not been born yet. Lily realized Ana must have gotten pregnant sometime during Lily and James' forced isolation right before James' death.<p>

This caused Lily to start crying again, but the urge was quickly squashed in a fit of self-loathing. 'Enough! Stop acting like a whiny little first year! Buck up and do something about the problem not just stand around whining.' She quickly cleaned up her face with her wand and walked downstairs.

All conversation stopped when she walked down. Then before she realized it, someone was hugging her. Stepping back, she saw Amelia Bones was the person hugging her. The Greengrass family had obviously invited guests when she slept. Augusta and Neville were also present along with another girl his age who she assumed was Susan, Amelia's niece. The two Greengrass girls were sitting on the floor just watching everything happening. Looking to the last couch, the last three people she ever expected to see were watching with amusement shining in their eyes.

"Raven! Animus! Chief! What are you all doing here?"

The one named Chief just smiled at her. Animus had a smirk on his face and Raven looked like a giddy teenager, which made Lily smiled despite how she was feeling since Raven was far from a teenager being a three hundred year old vampire.

Raven replied to her question, "It actually worked? We saw traces of the magic on you from our last experiment together! The runes actually worked! Lily you're a genius!"

Lily almost answered, but then remembered the predicament she was in. "Have any of you seen Harry?"

That caused everyone to sober up. The Chief finally spoke up.

"Aye, Lass. I've heard that the old bearded fool hid him off. I have an idea where though. I couldn't get past the wards, but I can tell they are blood based, so you could get past them, lass."

"Take me there immediately, Chief," said Lily. He just nodded and rose from his seat.

Adrian rose as well, but Lily shook her head. "No. Just Chief and I are going."

No one was willing to go against Lily since she had that determined gleam in her eyes that implied she meant business.

Walking down the drive, Lily grabbed Chief's arm and he apparated them to…. A muggle neighborhood? Some Privet Drive. Lily thought she remembered the name from somewhere…. 'No… he couldn't have. Please Dumbledore anything but that,' she thought, but her fears were true. Chief walked her up to Number 5 Privet Drive and pointed to the house across the street. "That's the one, lass."

Steeling herself, Lily walked up the front steps to Number Four Privet Drive and rang the doorbell. Nothing could have prepared her for what she would find inside. It would be her first turn towards a darker Lily…

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><p><strong>AN: Now we are brought back to Chapter Two's ending... What will Lily do in response to the gruesome sight from the newly edited Chapter 2?<strong>

**Hope you liked this chapter and where I'm going with this. In case you didn't notice, it is only eight years after that Halloween night rather than the ten of canon. This is intentional. **

**Please review! **


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